The Tale of an Inquisitor
by Lonesoldier
Summary: The tales of an inquisitor, a roaming 'trouble-shooter'. Taran travels the universe, putting down rebellions, stopping daemons and generally killing things. Rated PG-13 for descriptive violence. Review or the daemons will eat you!


Taran paced around his cell. This was not right, he was the Inquisitor, and they were the Emperor's subjects. He swore again. His forcesword was still at his belt and his bolt-pistol was holstered. The Coronians had at least shown enough courtesy to let him keep him belongings. Not like they really could of taken them away.

Taran sat on the hard cot. A filthy man with several missing teeth walked over to Taran's cell and pulled out a ring full of crude, battered keys. "Yer free ta go" he announced. "Thank you" Taran said as he walked out of the cell, pushing the jailer out of the way. "Hey, hey!" the jailer yelled as he rushed to catch up to the Inquisitor, "The master has called a meeting in the main hall. Your friends are already there, you're supposed to go too".

Without another word Taran walked up the spiral staircase, taking the stairs two at a time with ease. Taran walked through the halls of the castle, he had memorized them when he was heading to the dungeon. The 60-foot tall double doors to the main hall were shut and the servants that opened them were missing. Without missing a beat Taran grabbed the two enormous handles and pulled the gigantic doors open. As he slipped in the doors shut themselves behind him. He scanned the hall. It could seat a 100 people at least. But only the 'king's' table was set.

In accordance to tradition the center seat was left empty. It was reserved for the Emperor should he ever come to this backwater world. To the right of the empty seat was the governor of this world; he was a stocky man, with a long flowing moustache and ancient and ornate powersword at his belt. To his left was Linda, a veteran Storm trooper from the 74th Storm trooper platoon of the Cadian Shock troops. Her entire squad had been wiped out and she had managed to survive until she met up with other Imperials. She had earned her place in his war band. To the left of the Emperor's chair was an empty chair, his probably.

Taran took the seat and glanced left to check the last member of his war band. The space marine psyker glanced back. The marine's power armour was painted black, just like the power armour Taran wore under the flowing cloak, but Taran never wore the helmet, while the Librarian put his on during combat.

The governor's voice broke the silence. "I am very sorry we had to detain you, Inquisitor" the governor said. "Yes, I'm sorry as well" Taran replied, trying to throw off the governor. "We have had difficulties with foreigners in the last few months. Many have been landing claiming to be Adeptus". "Yes that is what we are here to discuss. Preliminary phase 3 psychic scans showed heavy psychic activity on this world. After much deliberation Inquisition High Command sent us down to investigate".

The governor tore his gaze away from Taran's eyes and down to his food. "We have had some trouble with foreigners. They are Adeptus Astartes by the look of them, seven feet tall and wearing black power armour with gold trimming. I did not recognize the livery but their orders were to create a fortress on this world. They have began recruiting civilians and turning them into blessed warriors" the governor said quietly.

The Inquisition psyker turned to face the governor, "I am aware that no Chapters have been sanctioned to construct a fortress in this sector. Also no Adeptus Astartes have the livery you just described to us. Did their left shoulder-pad have a 8 pointed star on it?" the psyker said. "Now that you say so, I recall that they did. They seemed quite morbid in fact Sir Janus"

Taran, Linda and Janus looked at each other. Taran took out his communicator and linked up to the ship in orbit. "This is Inquisitor Taran, we have a code red situation here. Do you see a fortress from your viewpoint?". A second after he finished the comm crackled and a voice said, "Understood, yes we can make one out, why?". "I want to launch a small salvo at it nothing especially deadly just conventional explosives" Taran commanded. "Understood" the man on board, said.

"Governor, you must excuse us, we have found what we came here looking for. Janus, I want you to get a psychic scan done, phase 5 this time. If you detect any higher warp entities notify the Ordo Malleus, that's their turf" Taran said. Janus nodded and began a scan, closing his eyes and sweeping across the world with his mind.

Linda's bolt pistol and chainsword were already in her hands. "Okay let's go" Taran said after Janus finished. "I have found large concentrations of energy near the hills to our west" Janus said. The trio left the castle and started marching toward the hills. "We should have had a Land Speeder teleported down" Linda said, she was only human while both Taran and Janus had undergone the procedure to turn them into Space Marines.

Without a word Janus scooped her up. She tried to protest but Janus didn't answer or put her down so she gave up. As they reached the peak of the first hill Linda slid out of Janus' grip. They got there in time to see the first missiles collide into the fortress. The comm crackled again and the man on board came on "Inquisitor the first salvo has been released and the Ordo Malleus has been notified" he said. "Thank you Damien" Taran said.

The rubble shifted and misshapen humans rose from the ruins. "Heretics! Mutants! Chaos Spawn! Kill them all!" Taran thundered at the Chaos cultists, their gods' 'gifts' had warped them into mockeries of humanity. Janus unslung his helmet from his backpack and put it on, locking it in place. Taran threw off the cloak revealing the black power armour below, the only insignia on it was a large letter I on both shoulder pads and winged skull motifs. The sign of the dreaded Inquisition.

Taran and Janus' forceswords were in their hands already; forceswords could only be used properly by an individual with psychic power. Both swords erupted in red psychic flame, which sears the soul of the victim. Linda thumbed her chainsword on; the teeth began to spin, sounding like a swarm of bees. All three drew their bolt pistols as well.

As the coven came into range their bolt pistols barked felling the un-armoured cultists with ease, the bolts in the guns exploded after impact. Taran's was equipped with the Metal Storm bolt variant. On fragmentation instead of damaging just the target, the shrapnel went flying, hitting other enemies as well.

Finally the cultists reached the hilltop. The first cultist to reach the hill caught Taran's metal boot in the face and then a bolt at point-blank. Tossing his pistol over shoulder Taran held the forcesword in a two-handed grip. Swinging the sword back and forth across the oncoming cultists, mowing them down. "Die Heretics!" he yelled. Linda fought more agilely, dodging attacks and cutting down the Chaos worshippers. Janus used his bolt pistol and forcesword in combination, slicing and firing, keeping the cultists a sword's length away.

"Code Alpha-Alpha-Omega" Taran said into the comm's microphone as he crushed more of the heretics. Damien, the tech-priest on board the Inquisitor's vessel, sighed and activated the launch sequence for the drop pods in the ships bay. Each armoured entry pod contained 5 Space Marines whose only goal was to kill all those who opposed the Emperor's guiding light.

Damien kneeled before each drop pod in turn asking the Machine God aspect of the Emperor to bless their safe entry. He walked over to the control panel and brought up the clear window that would keep the atmosphere in and space out. He reverently sang a small hymn and pushed the large, round, red button that had the rune for launch on it.

The bay doors opened, sucking the pods into space. Quickly the three pod's manoeuvring jets took over, guiding it into a slow and controlled descent onto the world. The pods fell into the atmosphere, Damien couldn't imagine the pressure the Marines were undergoing, it must have been nauseating even with all the training they had.

The pods slammed into the ground between Taran's war band and the ruined fortress. From each metal pod 5 superhuman space marines, bio-engineered to be the best fighting forces in the Imperium's arsenal, arose. Each armed with an ancient bolt pistol and chainsword. The Sergeants of the squads activated their power swords, the swords were sheathed in a blue disruption field, and anything touching them would have their particles disrupted, allowing the swords to cut through even the toughest armour. Even though there were only 15 marines, it would be more than enough.

They raised their swords into the air and chanted a battle litany to the Warrior God aspect of the Emperor as they advanced upon the cultists. The chaos worshippers themselves fell like wheat before a scythe at the furious, hate filled onslaught of the space marines. As the last cultist breathed his last breath the rubble strewn over the dark fortress shook.

Something beneath it stirred.

All eyes turned to the citadel, even the Space Marines, feeling something evil, turned to watch. The cultists fell to their knees chanted a twisted litany to their dark gods. The rubble exploded upwards and a daemonic being, full of evil and malice rose from the ruins.

Daemons, denizens of the warp, could only manifest for a short time and only by taking an untrained psyker as a host. Chaos cults, whose minds had been polluted by the ever whispering voices of the Dark Gods, worked to summon the daemons and take over the planets they lived on, trying to gain favour from their deity. There are 4 Gods of Chaos, each for one major imperfection in the human psyche. The God of Blood and War, Khorne; the God of Rot and Decay, Nurgle; the god of Forbidden Knowledge and the Changer of Ways, Tzeentch; the prince of excess, Slannesh.

The daemon's ruddy brown skin shone unnaturally. Two curved horns and red glowing eyes adorned its head. It wore a brass coloured armour over its chest and torso. In it's right hand it held a great sword, burning with an eternal flame and it's left clutched another great sword, which radiated waves of malice. Two great bat wings sprouted from its shoulder blades, kicking up dust with each stroke and its spike-ended tail swung from side to side behind it.

In Taran's and Janus' minds-eye the daemon was a like a giant glowing ball of psychic power, Taran's and Janus' own auras palled in comparison. The space marines and Linda had a different kind of glow surrounding them; Taran knew that it was their faith in the Emperor, that it was the reality they were holding on to.

"Be careful, he's a level 8 warp entity. He is very psychically talented, fall back Adeptus Astartes! Your weapons cannot harm this being" Taran yelled as he and Janus rushed in front of them. The Space Marines hesitantly obeyed the command, it was not in their nature to retreat. "Janus, the blade in his left hand is a daemon weapon. On contact it will try to corrupt your soul" he warned. "At this point our only weapon is faith" Janus said. The Space Marines started singing a litany of faith, amplified by their helmets. "And we have more than enough of it" he finished.

The daemon charged across the plain, roaring in its abyssal tongue. Both psykers raised their forceswords and counter-charged, yelling their own battle cry. Even before they connected their minds fought in a war thousands of times more deadly. First the daemon tried to break them with promises of power, which met the adamantium walls of their minds. The next wave of thought, full of hate and rage crashed upon the cliffs of their indomitable will.

The daemon was powerful, it laughed at the puny mortals before it. Like a shark to blood it's mental presence slammed into the minds of the two pyskers. But, no, something was different about these ones. The daemon has seen worlds ravaged and systems destroyed, but these two. They reminded him of a battle that occurred ages ago, when the universe was still young.

The Eldar! The cursed Eldar, spawn of the Old Ones, had entombed him in Webway, cut off from his lord and master Khorne his power had shriveled. He could see the same steely-eyed resolve he saw in the Eldar Farseer that had sealed him away eons ago.

With a roar, fuelled by fear, the daemon swung both greatswords. The mortals caught the daemon blades with their own Emperor blessed forceswords. The daemon had once been an Eldar. Eons ago, before it realized the truth of Chaos and became a devoted disciple of Khorne. It saw the massive unlocked potential in these puny beings. What sweet irony it would have been to corrupt them, but he was denied this pleasure. First he would strip them of their damnable force weapons and then slowly consume them.

Taran parried the blows, it felt like taking a sledgehammer to the shoulder every time the daemon struck. Janus was having similar difficulties. Taran focused himself again. He called on his inner reserve and focused the energy within him into a single metaphysical point. He shunted the power to his right hand and pointed the palm of that hand toward the daemon. He flung the point at the creature. As it left his hand it exploded and the stream of fire rushed to meet the daemons body. The physic fire writhed as it traveled, it splashed across the daemon, rather than obeying the laws of reality the fire hardened around the daemon, turning the burning flames into a cage.

Janus, now free to attack, sliced at the daemons left leg. The forcesword cut straight through it, cleaving bone, flesh and armour in one blow. The daemon howled and pitched backward. To the marines and Linda is was the death scream of something that was never meant to exist or be seen. Taran and Janus could hear the psychic messages of the daemon. It cursed them, after 20,000 years it was free again and two mortals had banished it back. Taran's forcesword bite through the hardened fire, the brass armour of Khorne and through the daemons chest to reach what the twisted remains of a heart the daemon had.

It screamed defiance one last time before dying. The scream of a thousand souls receiving their eternal damnation would have been fine music to the scream of the daemon. Taran twisted the blade and the scream cut short. "It's dead," he proclaimed. A space marine walked close and lifted his flamethrower. "Inquisitor, may I?" the marine asked. Taran nodded. The space marine pulled the trigger, liquid napalm sprayed out of the end of the flamer. It drenched the body and the daemon melted into a acidic smelling puddle.


End file.
